The One She Trusts
by LittleHarlequinDoll
Summary: He had seen her breakdowns and he had helped her through them, never once turning away from her. So why did she keep turning away from him?


There had been other men after the shooting, before Castle. None of them had lasted long, and Kate didn't have to guess why. Most of them cut and run when they realized that they wouldn't be getting anything, that she wouldn't even take her shirt off for them. She could never tell any of them why, although she wanted to. She wanted, more than anything, really, to be able to tell someone, to show them her scars. But, when the time came, she would shy away, close up again, and soon after that the guy would be gone.

But Rick wasn't like that. Rick _knew_. He had been there when it happened, he had seen everything, and he knew her scars. He had seen her breakdowns and he had helped her through them, never once turning away from her.

So why did she keep turning away from him?

Rick was the one person she trusted implicitly, the one person she knew would gladly take all her pain, listen to her crying, and not judge her for it. She suspected that it might make him love her more.

Yet there they were, asleep in the same bed, both fully clothed because Kate couldn't bring herself to take the next step. She knew he knew the exact placement of her worst scar, but him knowing it was there, and him seeing it, were two very different things in Kate's mind.

She watched his face as he slept, observing how the lines around his eyes and mouth (laugh lines, he insisted, but she knew that many of them had been brought on by worrying about her) smoothed out in sleep, making his already boyishly handsome face look positively youthful. He had a slight smile on his lips, which twitched a bit wider when Kate reached out to smooth a stray lock of hair from his forehead. Her fingers lingered there for a moment, trailing down his jawline to cup his face. Rick stirred at her touch, and his eyes opened slightly. He reached up to cover her fingers with his own, and smiled sleepily at her.

"Couldn't sleep?" he inquired, his voice thick and raspy. Kate shook her head and ran a thumb along his cheek, feeling the slight stubble rough against her skin. He didn't say anything more – he never did – and for that she was grateful, because she didn't know what else to say. She scooted closer to him on the bed and tucked her head under his chin, wrapping her arms tightly around his waist.

They were quiet for a long time before Kate pulled away and looked him in the eye.

"I want to show you something," she whispered. Rick knew what it was instantly by the haunted look in her eyes.

"Are you sure—" he started to ask, but Kate pressed a finger to his lips, silencing him.

"I want you to see it." She gripped the edge of her pajama shirt, her hands shaking slightly as she raised the cloth up and over her head. She pulled the blanket tight to her chin for a moment, taking several steadying breaths. Rick waited patiently, one hand trailing over her arm so gently and comfortingly that Kate almost wanted to cry. Kate took the blanket away slowly, feeling goosebumps rise as the chilly air of Rick's apartment hit her skin. She heard Rick take in a quick breath, but she had her eyes cast down, too afraid to look at him. Rick was silent and unmoving for a long moment and Kate could feel her anxiety mounting. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Kate felt Rick shift on the bed, and she saw his hand move towards her slowly, as if she were a frightened bird that might take flight if there were any sudden movements. When his hand was hovering above the small, almost perfectly circular scar on her left breast he hesitated, waiting for permission. Kate nodded almost imperceptibly, feeling her whole body tense up. His fingertips brushed the scar tentatively, experimentally, and Kate felt a shiver course through her. Nothing but clothing and her own fingers had ever touched that scar. To her, it was her most intimate place, and to have Rick touch it was so foreign that it should have felt wrong.

But his touch, lighter than air but still so heavy, was what she needed. He was very careful to touch nothing but the scar, his thumb passing gently over the small circle of puckered flesh. Kate shivered again, and he drew his hand away quickly.

"Kate," he whispered, his voice agonized. "I am so sorry."

"Don't be," she replied, grabbing his hand and lacing her fingers with his own. "Please don't be. I'm tired of people always telling me that they're sorry." She took a deep breath. "I remember." Rick's brow furrowed in confusion. "I remember what happened, I mean. I remember you saw the sniper, and you tried to push me out of the way. I remember…I remember the pain, and the bullet hitting my chest. I remember what you said." Her voice got soft as his eyes widened. His mouth opened slightly, but she shushed him. "I didn't say anything because I was scared."

Rick stared at her. Kate admitting that she was scared was not something that he ever thought he'd hear. Kate, who always tried to stay so strong, even when everyone knew that she had to be falling apart, _never_ admitted to such a weakness as fear.

But she had told him.

He cupped her face in his hand and pressed a firm, gentle kiss to her forehead.

"I love you, Kate," he whispered. This time the confession wasn't brought on by fear and panic. Kate wasn't dying, her blood wasn't on his hands.

And this time, he knew that she heard him when she whispered back "I love you, Rick."


End file.
